Developer Dilemma
by Inks Inc
Summary: Mike has a history of rooting for the underdog. Harvey has always been less openly supportive. Especially in situations where lending a helping hand to the little guy would upset a major client. Their latest case brings those clashing perspectives to the fore. Naturally, all manner of trouble ensues. WARNING: Spanking/Corporal Punishment. Two-Shot.
1. Chapter 1

"You want to tell me just what in the sweet suffering hell was going through your head?" Harvey demanded, stalking up and down behind his desk. "You want to give me some sort of goddamned explanation I can take to Jessica?" Throwing the offending file down on the surface top with a snap, he let out a low, frustrated growl. "What is going on with you? You've been answering me back, deliberately defying me and being a general pain in my ass on this case for days now."

He shot a glare across the desk at his maddeningly unabashed associate.

"Answers, Mike? You got any?"

The kid had the audacity to shrug his shoulders and stare out the window over his head.

Harvey started his counting. It was only this counting that allowed the boy to progress into his late twenties. If he hadn't discovered the counting technique, at Donna's insistence, chances are…the genius would be stone cold dead long ago. Rubbing a hand across his tired eyes, Harvey shook his head in disbelief. "Mike…I told you, in no uncertain terms, not to do anything on that deal. Open that genius mouth of yours and tell me why you defied me. You don't, and I swear to god I will kick you back into that associates pool so fast it'll knock the gel out of your just _fabulous_ hair."

He resolutely ignored the disapproving glare Donna shot in the glass doors.

If she had her way, Mike would happily run riot across the New York legal sector.

"I don't know, ok?" the associate blurted out, "I'm just not made like you, alright? This whole hard edge, I don't give a shit about anything or anyone, that's not me. Those people were being screwed over by that developer and we could help, but you decided we weren't going to give them three hours of our time. Three hours, Harvey, to save five families homes? You don't think that's a decent trade?"

The respected closer increased the tempo of his counting.

"You know, for a boy wonder…you can be incredibly dense at times Mike. Newsflash, I always planned to help those people. On my own time, off the books and with no need for _our_ client or Jessica to ever know. Did you ever think about that? You know, back when you were playing the legal vigilante? There is a right way and a wrong way to do things. You're barely out of the damned womb, so when I give you a strategy to work with, that's the one you goddamned well use. Not some half baked, save the world crap. Are you hearing me?"

Mike's mouth was suddenly rather dry.

That thought…had never crossed his mind. Yet now, it seemed starkly obvious. Harvey had been shifty about certain aspects of the deal, deliberately concealing them from Jessica. Looking back, without the obscuring veil of indignation that had hung over him, Mike realised it was plain as day what his boss was planning. A dull flush coloured his cheeks as the righteous poise slipped away from his shoulders.

He'd royally screwed up.

Seeing the seeping realisation and the corresponding flush creep across his associates face calmed Harvey somewhat. But not much. He was tired of having his decisions second guessed by a kid, gifted though he was, still didn't know his ass from his elbow in some respects. Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head with such obvious disappointment that Mike couldn't help but flinch. He knew, that Harvey knew, that he knew what he'd done wrong now. It was like that with them, they didn't need many words.

"Go and wait for me in the conference room. You know the one."

The bottom of Mike's stomach fell out. That conference room, the practically abandoned and secluded one, never spelled anything good for him. Shaking his head frantically, he wasn't surprised that Harvey was unmoved. "No?" he challenged quietly, "You want to do this here then?" He gestured towards the desk, with a raised brow and pursed lips. "That's fine by me, kid. You might want to ask Donna to turn off her side of this conversation though."

If Ross men were to vomit in horror, Mike would have upchucked all over the expensive carpet.

He couldn't tell that Harvey was bluffing, and would never actually follow through with his threat, because Harvey could be devastatingly convincing when he wanted to be. His trip off the reservation, so glaringly unnecessary seemed to stick in his throat as he shook his head weakly. He would quite frankly rather die, unaware of the fact that if looks could kill, Harvey would be keeled out in front of him from the venomous look Donna was shooting his way.

"Harvey…no, c'mon man please…."

The elder man held up a silencing hand, still ducking the mutating looks that were pinging off his expensive suit. "Then go to the conference room. It's your choice, Mike, but I've had it with you thinking you can question me, defy me and downright ignore me when you think you're right. You're an opinionated kid, and I respect the hell out of that. But there is a line, and you've crossed it." He paused to glower in exasperation.

"You've crossed it…yet _again_."

Mike winced. That was a valid point, and one he couldn't argue with. Sighing, he cursed his asinine stubbornness that had so clouded his judgement. Jessica was fuming with Harvey, because the client was fuming with the firm, and now…Harvey was fuming with him. It all came back to him and he knew it. Glancing guiltily across at the man who had done so much for him, he managed to square his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Harvey. I was…well, I was an idiot."

The lawyer snorted.

"Was?"

This time, there was no dodging the murderous look an equally murderous looking red head sent him and he sighed, softening somewhat. Mike…he'd a good heart. One he wore on his sleeve, and that frightened Harvey. It made him vulnerable to pain and manipulation. Not to mention the never ending threat of career suicide that seemed to hover around the kid. Breathing in deeply, he ran an exasperated hand through his thick hair.

"I didn't mean that," he grunted, "You're not an idiot. Not really."

A slightly, oh so very slightly approving look sailed through the glass door over Mike's head, who brightened a little. "So…does that mean I don't have to go to the conference room?" It took all of Harvey's negotiating experience to keep the fond smile from crossing his face. Kid was nothing if not sharp. "Nice try, Mike. Go on now, go. I'll be there once I calm down a bit. You know where to wait."

The air seemed to drain from the room as the rookie fought to nod his head in misery.

Exiting the office, to the background of Harvey's exasperation, he caught Donna's sympathetic look and sighed. "Any chance you can make him go easy on me?" he implored, putting his brown eyes to their most devastating effect. Squeezing his shoulder gently, she tipped him her trademark wink.

"I'll see what I can do. Now, best you get a move on and get it over and done with." Nodding at the accuracy of her reply, Mike was beat to the verbal punch by a fed up voice that suddenly bellowed through the innocuous speaker on the cubicle desk.

"For the love of…." growled Harvey, "Mike, get your ass to that conference room, now! And as for you Donna…" he trailed off as she turned to raise a delicate and dangerous brow. "Uhh…I was just wondering what bag you said you wanted for secretaries' day? Prada, wasn't it?" Shaking his head at the sheer unfairness of life, Mike turned and began the solitary journey to the conference room of doom, muttering all the while under his breath.

"When do I ever get Prada anything…."

…..

A/N: First chapter of a two-shot because I miss writing Mike and Harvey!

…


	2. Chapter 2

Seeing the door swing open, Mike groaned inwardly. Straightening up in his chair, the protégée pulled out all the stops in pooling his eyes into brown puddles of remorse. "Harvey…c'mon, please? I get it ok, I get it. No more second guessing or back talk. Ok? Can't we just…can't we just leave it at that?" Closing the thick door behind him quietly, Harvey walked slowly into the room and dropped down into a conference table chair across from his miserable looking associate.

"I've just spent the last thirty minutes calming myself down Mike," he muttered, "Don't get my temper up all over again by sitting there and acting like you don't deserve what you're about to get." Mike sighed and glanced down at the shiny table. "I didn't mean to piss you off. I know I should have known that you were planning something, but I just got so caught up in those people and their losing their homes, I didn't think straight."

He grimaced as another realisation hit him. "How mad is Jessica with you?" He watched as Harvey raised a brow that just screamed "little late to be asking" before he shrugged noncommittally. "She probably has another ass chewing in her that I'll get later, not that I can blame her."

Mike felt another pang of shame.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I didn't mean to get you in the shit with her."

Harvey snorted.

"If I were you, I'd worry about my own troubles. Do you have any idea how delicate your position is? Because sometimes Mike, I really think the whole not actually being a lawyer thing just goes right over your head. I've been through this with you before. You cannot draw any attention to yourself. And believe it or believe it not, going rogue on one of the firm's most high profile cases _draws attention to yourself."_

He paused to let out a sigh of frustration.

"You have got to learn how to take control of your emotions Mike. You may be a genius, but when it comes to separating the personal and the professional, you got a hell of a long ways to go. You might think that I'm uncaring, or whatever the hell you called me, but I'm not. I just don't go around with a big neon banner, telling everyone how I feel about a case or a client or anything within the realm of business hours. This is a cut throat profession, and the sooner you learn how to use your emotions to your benefit instead of being ruled by them, the better. Genius though you may be, you clearly need a couple of lessons in how to do that."

He suddenly rose and indicated with a crook of his finger for Mike to do the same.

"And your first lesson is coming right up. On your feet, you know the drill."

Acting on instinct more than anything, Mike arose with a small gulp. He watched in silence as Harvey sighed and reached for the buckle of his belt, motioning for him to bend over the table. No words were needed; they'd been through this more times than either of them cared to remember. Not finding it within himself to obey instantly, the associate felt his eyes pooling into his most devastating of puppy eyes.

"I won't do it again Harvey, c'mon man. Can't you just let it go? You yelled at me enough in your office, trust me, I get the message. Loud and clear. No more letting my emotions cloud my judgement, I got it. Ok?" Folding the expensive leather over in his hands, gripping the buckle securely out of harm's way, Harvey sighed. He understood Mike's need to plea bargain, but it always made what he considered an already hard enough job even harder.

"Mike…stop it. Stop negotiating, stop stalling and let's just this over with."

Far from stopping, the resourceful rookie dialled it up a notch. "You know that doc review that you owe Jessica? The one that's three months late? How about, I do that, you give that to her, making her less mad with you, and you less mad with me, and me less mad at…chairs and various other hard surfaces." He managed a shadow of his winning grin. "How does that sound?"

Harvey raised a brow.

"It sounds like you're going to end up with that doc review to keep you company over the weekend as well as this if you don't quit trying to negotiate with me." He shook his head slowly, steeling himself. "I don't like this anymore than you do. So could you quit looking at me like a poodle on death row, and get yourself over this damned table so we can get out of here?"

Mike looked towards the table dubiously before swallowing loudly.

Harvey cursed himself internally for his ridiculous soft spot for the boy and walked towards him before he knew what he was doing. Holding the belt in one hand, he put the other on his miserable looking protégée's shoulder. "Mike," he muttered quietly, "Trust me; the thoughts of it are worse than the thing itself. I'm not going to kill you; I'm just going to teach you a lesson. If you stop this stalling now, it'll be quick. I'm not going to make you lose the pants, if you cooperate with me right now." He removed his hand and stepped back with a small shrug. "If you don't, well… you know what happened last time."

The reassurance that had begun to seep through Mike at Harvey's low voice, touch and words instantly slipped away from him. He sure as hell remembered. Sighing, he nodded. He knew he deserved what he was about to get. And a large part of what it made so awful, wasn't actually the tanning itself. It was the fact that he could see it hurt Harvey to do it, not that he'd ever mention that. The older man would positively die if confronted with his own emotions by someone other than himself. Remembering the disappointment he'd seen in his mentors eyes when he had learned of his off the books deal, he nodded.

"Good man," Harvey murmured approvingly, as Mike shrugged out of his suit jacket. Seeing the way the cheap material creased as he tossed it loosely over a chair made the elder of the two want to burn it. He was still trying to teach the kid the importance of good dress. Like everything, it was slow…but they were getting there. He stepped back his protégée took one last breath, before moving towards the table and quickly placing himself over it, burying his head in his arms.

Stifling his own groan, and remembering with some relief that this was more of a short, sharp shock than the more protracted punishments the conference room had housed, Harvey moved forwards. Placing a warm hand on Mike's lower back, he tightened his hold on the buckle in his hand. There was no risk he was willing to take that would see the metal touching Mike in any way. Taking in a deep breath of his own, he pushed away the annoying softness and searched for the badass Harvey Specter. The one everyone loved to hate.

He failed.

His voice carried none of his usual grit. Instead, it was maddeningly gentle.

"Don't make me do this again for something so stupid Mike," he said lowly, "I don't have a problem with you disagreeing with me. But I do, and always will, have a problem with you disobeying me. No matter what the reason. You don't always have to agree with or like what I tell you to do, but you do have to do it. Is that clear?"

He could barely hear the words that came out of the boy, so far had he his head buried.

"Does that include liking your sixties music collection come abomination?"

Harvey stared at the back of his cheeky charge and couldn't help the proud smirk that crossed his face. Even in his current position Mike had a mouth on him, and a confidence about him that would serve him well, long after he was in the teaching position. "Do you need to go back to Louis again?" Harvey countered lightly, "Didn't you learn your lesson the last time?"

He could feel the shudder under his hand as Mike shook his head wildly.

"I don't always have to agree with or like what you tell me to do, but I do have to do it. I got it."

Biting back a chuckle, Harvey muttered a gravelly "that's better," before steeling himself once more. There was no point in putting it off any longer. Increasing his hold on Mike's back, he murmured a quiet "try and hold still," before drawing his arm back. The first crack of the belt seemed unnaturally loud in the starkly silent room, and Harvey winced in tandem with Mike's surprised hiss. Knowing that allowing too much time between licks was cruel; he quickly recovered and drew his arm back again. The second swat seemed just as loud, if not louder. As did the third, and the fourth.

It wasn't long before the correction was fully underway, and Mike was yelping somewhat under the onslaught of the painfully thick and high end leather. Not sparing his protégée, Harvey worked diligently to light a fire in the kid's ass. He intended it to be a short punishment, but still a memorable one. There were only so many times he could save Mike from Jessica, and he wasn't about to go through the crusades with her every week because his associate refused to listen to reason. Gritting his teeth at a particular morose whimper, he brought the belt down lower to punish the boy's sit spots with a force and tempo that made his displeasure known.

Pushing down gently on Mike's back to stem his squirming, he sensed enough was enough, and began to bring the chastisement to a close. It was much shorter than the usual bouts into this room elicited, but he knew that was all the kid needed to learn this particular lesson. He could write a lot of as youthful exuberance when it came to Mike, and he was always careful to balance his disciplinary measures against what he could legitimately expect from a twenty-something genius. With a final flurry of licks across the tender sit spots that drew a strangled whimper from the associate, he immediately stayed his arm and removed the hold on the kid's back.

He knew Mike wasn't crying. He wasn't far of it granted, but he hadn't been quite hard enough on him to bring about tears. Selfishly, he was intensely grateful for that fact. He found it near impossible to keep his polished exterior in place when he looked at his rookie with tears in his eyes, or streaming down his face as a result of his hand. Threading his belt back through its loops, he wasn't surprised when Mike rose with only a few moments to compose himself. He was slightly red in the face, and he winced visibly as he stood, but other than that he looked to be…ok.

Taking a deep breath, he reached back and rubbed tentatively at his stinging rear.

Harvey suppressed a small smile at that, and took a step closer to his prodigy. "Well," he questioned carefully, "Am I going to have a repeat performance of your stand against developers?"

Mike snorted with a small wry grin.

"No…I think I'm cured of my stands against the man."

It was Harvey's turn to snort as he pulled the boy in for a quick hug, before ruffling his hair. "Why don't I believe that?" Feeling cloaked in the warm blanket that was Harvey's total forgiveness, Mike grinned in a strong shadow of his usual smile. "You know, if I were you…I'd be nicer to me," he said in an attempted tone of darkness, betrayed by the devilish twinkle in his eye. Steering the kid towards the door, the elder of the two threw his eyes up to heaven.

"Oh yeah? And why's that then?"

Drawing his cell out of his pocket with an even wider grin, Mike shrugged cockily.

"Because I have Donna on speed dial and she told me not to, and I quote, "take any of your nonsense."

He was gone out the door with a chuckle before Harvey could fully get the menacing growl out of his throat. Shutting the door behind the two of them, the closer shook his head in exasperation as his associate hightailed it down the hallway away from him.

"Kid will be the death of me."

…

A/N: I just blurted this out through a boring lunch stuck at work, so I have no time to check for typo's. Will check and rectify later.

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End file.
